I Succumbed
by Dreaming n Watercolors
Summary: Jazira decides her place is with Frank Hopkins. Short story. Completed.


**I Succumbed - A** **short story by Dreaming n Watercolors**

**Disclaimer** – Hidalgo is long dead. Frank Hopkins as well. Good souls. I own neither. 

It was no easy thing for me to leave my father. Sheik of all Sheiks with no sons and now no daughter. How would he fare? Who would love him as I did? Would he hate me? Miss me? Curse me? 

I am a woman of no importance. I am nothing. Worthless. Not even my girl children would be considered worthy. If I were to have boys then I would be of some little importance. Meager importance.

No choice. No choice in my husband, my life. No choice in my love. No choice. 

A woman alone. A woman with skills beyond most men but a woman none the less. What does it matter if I can ride like the wind and fight with a sword almost as well as my long dead brothers? I am nothing even though I have been loved and cherished.

My father would die for me this I know yet he finds me rude and unladylike if I speak before company. He would rather I hide. Stay out of sight, little one. Lower your eyes, little one. Do not look so boldly at Prince Bin al Reeh, little one.

When I heard the Prince was dead I rejoiced. 

I am not an evil woman. I am simply nothing. No one. Nobody. Of no importance.

Is there any wonder then that I fled? Like an adulteress fearing to be stoned I fled. I took little with me. I took only provisions and a change of clothing. I traveled light. I fled into the wilderness. I had no other choice.

It was die in the wastelands of my father's world or die in my search for Frank Hopkins. If I chose the former I would be wed to a man whom I could never love. A woman never to know love. I chose the latter. Better to die in search of love.

Jaffa was dead but with that noble man's death, my loyal and faithful servant, I had freedom the like I had never known before. I was able to plot and prepare. It was not hard to have the Kurd and the little slave boy help me. 

Though one always watched. Lady Anne Davenport. The Christian Woman. I laugh at that. How can I not? Christians believed in Jesus Christ and were to be good and kind. Better that she were called Woman of Satan.

She wanted Frank Hopkins and thought that I desired him as she did. I did not admit that I wanted him but I know now that I did. That I do. Frank Hopkins. Freedom. Perhaps love as well.

She must hate him now. He did not want her. I know she hates me. Always watching me after I was caught in his tent. Always suspecting and conniving. 

It was easy to have the Kurd start a small fire very near her tent. He had no reason to refuse me for I paid him well with many jewels. The little slave boy laughed holding out his hand and I gave him jewels as well.

May Allah bless them. We snuck away from my father's encampment as the tent burnt and all around us the people fled in search for buckets of precious water.

When we reached the port I did not know how he would feel when he saw me. Would he send me back? Would he pity me? How would I feel?

The cowboy was not hard to find but always there was fear inside me. A woman of no worth but once kidnapped I would be deemed worthy. Would my father send his servants after me? Would he care enough?

If he cared enough he would let me go.

"There! There is the ship he is going on. It is not a good ship at all. Very poorly built. Perhaps it is Allah's will that the infidel die on the waters. Yes. I think it is his fate," the Kurd said solemnly.

I was tired of listening to his rants. Was he senile or had he always been this way? Talking beyond endurance. At least the slave boy said nothing though he laughed at intervals at the Kurd's ridiculous statements.

What would they do when I was gone? How would they survive? Would the Kurd return to stealing when my jewels were gone? Would my father cut off his hand and leave him fit for nothing? And the boy? Would he grow into a strong and loyal servant like Jaffa?

Who can say? Not I. Their fate could not be known to me any more than my own fate was revealed to me.

I was not stopped as we boarded the ship, dressed as I was in man's clothing. Instead of a woman's hijabs I wore a man's head covering tied securely around my hair and face as if to protect myself from the sand and heat. We were given directions to his cabin but something made me stop.

"Can you tell me where the horses are kept?" I asked in as deep a voice as I could master.

Directions were simple. I made my way into the bowels of the ship despite the complaints of the Kurd. Hidalgo. I needed to see that painted pony. I needed to touch his hide and sink my face in his soft mane. 

I am not a crazy woman. I am a lover of horses. I ride like the wind.

I believe Hidalgo recognized me and when he let out a whiny it was full of welcome. And yes I buried my head in his mane and ran my hands along his nose.

"What in the name of heaven are you two doing here?" Frank Hopkins shouted soon after.

We all turned to see the cowboy coming towards us. He was clearly shocked. Not happy at all. The Kurd looked at me and I at him. The little slave boy laughed not understanding the English words.

"She made us come," the Kurd said and pointed at me.

"Your greed made you bring me," I responded.

"Jazira?" 

Had he screamed he could not have shown more shock in that one word. My name.

"It is I."

"Where's yer daddy?" he asked looking around nervously.

"She ran away," the Kurd informed him quickly with a disapproving shake of his head. "There will be much trouble now. Surely Sheik Riyadh will send many men to rescue his daughter and you – you will die a most unpleasant death of torture and worse!"

He would have said more but I spoke now – "Your task is finished, Kurd. You may go now."

"But . . . yes, yes."

Why he changed his mind I do not know but he bowed several times before walking away thoughtfully, the slave boy trailing behind him. What was he thinking? Plotting?

Now that we were alone I untied the cord that held my head covering in place then removed the covering and shook out my hair. We stood in the darkness of the ship and I did not know what to say. He did not look happy that I was there. Was I truly so worthless? Nothing to him? Nobody to him?

I thought he'd seen me for who I really was. I thought he'd seen me – all of me.

"Jazira . . ."

My hand stopped his words. My fingers lightly touched his lips.

He hesitated. I could see this before he moved away from me. I did not mind. 

"No one knows I came but the Kurd and the slave boy. My father would not think to look for me here if he thinks to look for me at all."

He clearly did not know what to say but I waited for him to speak.

"Why? Why're you here?"

Was it not obvious? Did he really not know?

"I . . . it's just that I ain't lookin' forward to losin' my pride. T'ain't an experience I wanna re-live."

His eyes were so blue and clear. His face was full of conflicting emotions. I had hope.

"I don't mean no disrespect," he whispered.

He always spoke so low. I strained to hear his words. Would he be glad to hear mine?

"I came because I do not want to be without you," I told him.

"The boat's gonna be leavin' soon," he replied.  There was no hesitation this time.

"Should I leave then, Frank Hopkins?"

He stared at me as if not comprehending my words. We heard shouts from above and the clatter of men running to and fro as they readied the ship. I started to close my eyes in defeat when he slowly shook his head from side to side. 

We stood together beside Hidalgo as the ship slipped out to sea. Only then did I dare to breathe again. Only then did he dare to move towards me. But this time I moved away. Choices. So many.

He removed his hat wiping at his brow with a neck cloth then placed the hat and cloth on a post. He looked dark and lean. He still wore the shirt we had given him, gleaming white against his sun kissed skin. I noticed these things, afraid to think of anything else.

He grinned at me then reached for me and pulled me to him and I did not move away this time. 

Throw me overboard if you must but hold me now if only for a time. 

After a time he pulled away from me. I looked up at him not knowing what he would do but it did not matter now. He looked at me with his penetrating sky eyes. His hand came up to my face. His palm felt rough but gentle as he caressed my face. We looked into each other's eyes and though he said nothing I knew I had chosen well. I closed my eyes when his lips sought mine and I succumbed. 

**A/N** – Please let me know what you think whether it's good or bad. I'd be much obliged.  


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